The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Telling the Truth, pt. 1

Able couldn't feel his face. This might have been a welcome relief from the constant pain of the cold if he could stop worrying it meant something was now irreparably wrong. He also couldn't feel his hands and was making do hoping the reins were still in them. Fortunately, his pony seemed happy enough to follow Chessie's pony through the ice-dusted forest. And, despite it all, he probably liked the winter forest better than the summer one, since he could see the sky even in the thickest wood.

It was overcast but still and silent but for the huffing and snorting of the ponies and the thuds and crunches of the ground beneath their hooves. A far cry from the storms that had hounded their progress and made Able glad to retract his initial judgment that the crew of the Wave Walker was unseasoned. A far cry from the news Wren Holdfast had greeted them with once they had landed in Pearlshore.

Reeve had decided to move the garrison from Adeptsby to the more defensible Aimsby after all. Once the indentured servants caught on that he was removing the provisions, several hundred of them stormed the barracks. The resulting bloodbath was unsurprising, but Able found it sat heavy on him, especially after Holdfast had listed Honor Longfield among the Resistance member casualties.

The image of her harrowed blue eyes flicking back and forth like a cornered animal would not leave his mind. Perhaps he didn't want it to. Perhaps it was something he needed to keep with him.

The smell of smoke stirred him from his ruminations. The only good news Ferret had to share was she was reasonably certain where they could find the Blackbird. It seemed they were getting close. Able peered through the trees on all sides before regaining his wits and leaning so he could look past Chessie towards where they were headed.

It still took a moment to pick the tiny cabin out of the same trees it was constructed from. The ponies trudged through the dead leaves between the naked trunks until they reached the side of the building, where half a shed housed half the remains of a skinned deer. Able found himself staring uncomfortably at the exposed tendons and graying meat as he dismounted, even though it was nothing he'd not seen before in a butcher's shop.

Fortunately, the ponies were not so disturbed and instead nosed Chessie for fodder as she tied them to the post. Able tried to shake feeling back into his body as he followed Chessie around the side of the cabin, past the curtained window, and to the door where she knocked.

"What's the password?" came a familiar voice, though it attempted to hide under forced gruffness.

Relief washed through Able's veins so quickly he nearly staggered off the stoop from dizziness.

"Open the door, dumbass," Chessie replied lightly.

The door swung inward to reveal Lark, plain-faced in a plaid shirt with his hair gathered in a loose ponytail. Was he blushing, or just flushed from the heat spilling out the open door? "You know me so well." He grinned at Chessie before his gaze flicked to Able. He bit his lip then backed into the house, withdrawing his expression from further scrutiny. His tone was bright though, as he said, "Come in, no sense letting the heat out when I've only just gotten it toasty in here."

Able filed in behind Chessie and followed her lead to hang his hat, scarf, and coat beside the door. His hands trembled, either from cold or excitement, making him miss the pegs at first. Well, watching Lark hurriedly removed items from the chairs near the stove probably wasn't helping that.

"I've got venison stew in the pot there, and I can get some bread—"

"Are you alone?" Chessie broke in.

"For the moment." Lark breezed by Able to hang a still-damp coat by the door as well. "They check in on me every few days, bring supplies. Don't tell me much. Chorus comes through every few weeks and stays the night. Brought me news of Adeptsby, at least, but not you."